


A Worthy King

by wisia



Series: The Servant [2]
Category: DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Exhibitionism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 00:30:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2088870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisia/pseuds/wisia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ra’s has fallen, and Bruce commands Tim to serve. Only Tim is not willingly to agree so quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Worthy King

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn’t resist and wrote the other side of the coin to the King’s Punishment. This depicts Ra’s’ downfall and the start of Bruce’s rule. Truthfully, I have an entire storyline of what goes in between this and what happens before. Like how did Tim end up serving Ra’s and their argument that lead to Tim’s banishment. Or how did Tim meet Bruce and end up passing secrets to him. Or why Bruce is vying for Ra’s’ throne. Maybe one day, I will flesh out this universe some more. But this is the end of the story.

“You thought yourself clever, hm?” Ra’s grips Tim hard on his chin, twisting till Tim’s eyes focuses on him. “Telling my secrets to the enemy and spurring war against me.”

                Tim spits in his face, and Ra’s only licks his lips. Tastes Tim’s saliva and grins. He is mad, and Tim can see how the Lazarus Pit has changed and warped him. For a moment, Tim thinks he should have agreed. Allowed his disagreements to be swept away instead of having Ra’s throw him from court.

                “You have grown insolent in our time apart.” And Tim sees his eyes. There’s nothing left of the man Tim once knew there. Ra’s was not a worthy king.

                “You cast me aside,” Tim said simply.

                “Yet here you are.” Ra’s gestures to the camp they’re in. Where he and his men have set up their base and forces against Bruce. “Mine again.”

                “Never yours,” Tim says. If he ever did, it was only once so long ago when Ra’s was still himself.

                “We shall see, Timothy. I will have you watch as I take Bruce apart and bring him down. He will fear my power, and he will see how you have abandoned him. Because you were always mine.”

                Tim bows his head because there’s little he can do when captive.

                “I am not his either,” Tim says quietly, so quiet that Ra’s has to strain his ears to hear. Ra’s laughs.

                “He believes you are, and that is enough.” He kisses Tim on the cheek. The sensation is sickening, and Ra’s smiled at Tim’s look of disgust.”

                “Come, Timothy.”

                And Tim finds himself on a platform raised high above the ground. In the middle where he can see the two forces standing on opposite ends. Ra’s’ colors ring true, all green and gold. So bright and fierce against Bruce’s solemn black and gold. There are men standing guard, and Ra’s puts a Qanun before him.

                “You shall play today,” Ra’s says simply, and Tim knows he cannot refuse.

                “I will play to your death,” Tim replies and stretches his fingers. He looks down at the string instrument and is only slightly surprised that it is the same one Ra’s gifted to him so long ago.

                “You will play to my victory,” Ra’s refutes.

                “We shall see,” and Tim plays. He plays as Ra’s walks away. As the guards step closer to ensure he doesn't leave. He plays and listens to the horns and trumpets that sound the beginning of the battle. He plays as he finally brings his eyes up to watch Ra’s and Bruce bring their forces to the middle and fight in earnest. He plays even as Ra’s’ men fall back against Bruce’s might. Tim doesn’t dare to stop.

                It is only when Ra’s comes to him, bloody and bleeding that Tim’s playing falters before resuming with intensity.

                “Timothy,” Ra’s says. “You still play.”

                “I said I would play to your death,” and Tim’s fingers fly across the strings. The tune goes from majestic to mournful.

                “But I am not dead,” Ra’s says and spreads out his arms. “I have not lost yet. Not when I still live and still stand.”

                Tim switches and plays a beloved song, dear to both him and Ra’s. From before he was taken by the Lazarus. Ra’s looks at him, startled.

                “You—“

                “Ra’s,” a voice roars and Bruce is there. Ra’s pulls his sword, but he is too late. Tim plays even as his blood spills across the strings. The last note ends with Ra’s last breath.

                “Bruce,” Tim acknowledges and stands up. The guards that watched him are dead, Tim notes faintly.

                “You’re alive,” Bruce says, relieved.

                “I am,” Tim says. He goes to Ra’s’ body, kisses that noble brow and closes his eyes. Then he turns to Bruce. “The kingdom is yours.”

                “Come with me,” Bruce says abruptly. Tim tilts his head because the man is so flustered even as dirty and battle worn as he was.

                “For rest. Food—“ Bruce stumbles over the words, and Tim says yes. But he doesn’t know if he will serve this king. Even though he has seen him with the people and heard him spoke about the kingdom and what he believes is just.

                Tim’s forced to choose though. Sooner than he thought. Because there in the wide open canopy where Bruce and his closest advisors and council sits. Where they had just finished eating. Bruce brings it up. He appoints his men to position, and he appoints Tim.

                “And Tim will serve—“

                “I will?” Tim asks and stands with a clatter.

                “You will,” Bruce says and he does not know how much he has erred. How much he has struck deep into Tim’s heart.

                “You dare command me?” Tim’s voice rises, sharp and cool.

                “You fought for me,” Bruce says as if it was clear that was Tim’s intention. To serve Bruce and his land. Tim walks around the table and Bruce’s men. They all stare at Tim goes to the center of the space till he is before Bruce, back straight and proud.

                “You think it means more?” Tim asks.

                “It doesn’t?” And Bruce is confused. Bewildered by Tim’s reaction. Then, he’s angry. “You refuse?”

                Tim’s mouth thins into a line. When he speaks, Tim holds everyone’s attention.

                “Tell me. Do you know the story of how I left Ra’s?” And Tim knows Bruce doesn’t know. Wouldn’t know the story of how Ra’s degraded him.

                “No.” Bruce shakes his head. “What does this have to do with—“

                “I disagreed with him,” Tim says and then with emphasis, “and he refused my agency.”

                Bruce still doesn’t understand, and Tim cuts Bruce off before even one single syllable could fall from that mouth.

                “He took my choice away. Did I choose to serve him? No. And now you would do the same.”

                “I,” Bruce stammers, but Tim speaks right over him.

                “Let me tell you how I was dismissed. He stood me before his court. Told me that I would leave with nothing.”

                Tim gestures to the room, to where Bruce’s men watches and recreates the scene.

                “It was just like this. He knew that I had modesty, and he ordered me to strip.”

                Tim inhales deeply as he prepares himself for this. He takes off his coat.

                “I took off my hat. My bracelets and rings. Dropped them on the ground,” Tim says and drops his coat as well, word to action. “All this in front of the court.”

                Bruce is wide eyed, and it is Dick on Bruce’s right hand side who realizes what is happening. Dick gestures and between him and Jason, everyone aside from Bruce turns their back to Tim. Because Tim strips himself of his garment as he speaks.

                “Then he told me to halt,” Tim says and pauses his hand. He can see it clearly. The scene from that night transposed over this. Bruce hangs onto his every word, spellbound.

                “He touched me himself then. Removed the last of my clothing with his own hands. I was naked before him, pride lost and humiliated. Naked as I stand here before you tonight.”

                Tim feels the tightness in his throat, but he keeps going. He turns slowly till Bruce can see the scar on his left upper back.

                “He pressed me to the ground and marked me. So that all would know I was his.”

                Tim presses his hand to the mark, and the raised ridges makes Tim want to weep. Instead, he runs his hand to the opposite side and whispers.

                “Tell me, would you mark me too if I refuse you?”

                “No,” and Bruce’s voice sounds horrified. Tim turns to face Bruce again.

                “I would not,” Bruce says and struggles to speak. “That is not. I would not.”

Tim merely eyes him. Then, he steps to Bruce in long graceful strides.

                “He threw his cloak over me then,” Tim says and reaches for Bruce who tenses. Still as he can as Tim touches the clasp on Bruce’s cloak. He lets Tim undo the clasp. Remove that heavy black cloak that smelt of blood and violence and Bruce’s own scent. The silence was heavy between them. They are so close that Tim can feel Bruce’s heat against his skin, but Tim moves back. Throws Bruce’s cloak over his own shoulders.

                “And he paraded me through the city. In the streets where everyone in the kingdom could see that I was his and ruined. He touched me then too.”

                Tim refuses to blush at the memory. “Made me came while all could see how low I was brought.”

                He looks Bruce straight in the eye. “I swore then that I would ruin him. And I swore then that I would never serve a king who was not good. A king who would refuse my advice and ignored my choices. Because that king who did not respect me would not respect his people. Now, I am here. You, another man for the throne. Tell me, do you order me to serve?”

                “No,” Bruce says and shakes his head. “I see now, and I won’t.”

                “Then,” Tim says. “Remember that my serving is a gift. All that I am is for the King. My loyalty, my serving, my devotion. I will be faithful for you have ensnared me. Stole all that I am till I am dead and even then to beyond.”

                Tim sinks to the floor on his knees, bows his head low.

                “I only pray you do not prove to be an unworthy king.”


End file.
